


Eye Contact

by AppleSeeds



Series: Opticians [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Aziraphale is Patient (Good Omens), Caring Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley just wants cool contact lenses, Flustered Crowley (Good Omens), Getting to Know Each Other, Innuendo, M/M, Oblivious Crowley (Good Omens), Optician Aziraphale, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:35:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29088441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AppleSeeds/pseuds/AppleSeeds
Summary: Crowley wants snakey contact lenses to finish off his costume for the Halloween party he's going to at the weekend, but is frustrated to learn he'll have to undergo an eye health check and practise putting them in and taking them out before he'll be allowed to buy them. That frustration vanishes when Crowley meets Aziraphale, the ridiculously attractive optician who is going to be helping him.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Opticians [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1988209
Comments: 73
Kudos: 214
Collections: Good Omens Human AUs





	1. If at first you don't succeed

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the_megs for providing the inspiration for this story! <3
> 
> This is part 3 in the Opticians series but unrelated to the first two stories. In this one, it is Aziraphale who is the optician and Crowley who is subjected to his caring attention... ;-)

“Hi, can I help you?”

Crowley turned away from the shelf stacked with boxes of novelty contact lenses towards the person who had asked the question, a young woman with an American accent, wearing round, thick-framed glasses very fitting for someone who worked at an optician’s.

“Oh, um… nah, ‘m fine, just gonna get these.” 

Crowley picked up a box of snake eye contacts and jiggled it about a bit in front of her.

“Have you had contact lenses from us before?”

“Um… no?”

“Have you _ever_ worn contact lenses before?”

“No… is there a problem?”

“No, no problem. You just need to have an eye health check before I can sell them to you, and you’ll need to demonstrate that you’re able to safely put them in and take them out.”

“Ok…” Crowley drew out the word, looking quizzically at the young woman, _Anathema_ , according to her name badge. “How long does that take?”

“About ten minutes for the check-up. The next part depends on you.”

Crowley scrunched up his face. He’d only planned to pop in to Angel Eyes Opticians to pick up some spooky contacts to put the finishing touch to the demon costume he’d put together for Eric’s Halloween party on Saturday. It was only supposed to take a few minutes, and he was a bit put-out by Anathema’s suggestion that he needed to _prove_ he could put the bloody things in and take them back out. How hard could that possibly be?

“We’re closing in an hour and we don’t actually have any more appointment slots today, but I’ll ask Aziraphale if he wouldn’t mind quickly seeing you.”

“Oh, it’s ok, I just want them for a party on Saturday. I can come back tomorrow or something.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Anathema smiled and raised her eyebrows, plucking the box of contact lenses out of Crowley’s grasp and striding purposefully towards the back of the shop, where she disappeared through a door off to the side.

Crowley blew out a breath and stood with his hands shoved awkwardly in his pockets. Quickly feeling conspicuous when Anathema didn’t return immediately, he casually sauntered over to the display of sunglasses and let his gaze idly drift across them, but the range was pretty limited, presumably due to winter being just around the corner.

Hearing the sound of footsteps on the tiled floor, Crowley turned and saw Anathema approaching him with a slightly smug smile on her face.

“Aziraphale will be with you in a moment, you can take a seat at the back of the shop.”

“Oh, um… great, thanks.”

Crowley slipped his hand out of his pocket and moved to take the contact lenses back from Anathema, but then, realising that they were no longer in her possession, awkwardly aborted the motion part way through. He sauntered to the back of the shop and flopped down onto a white plastic chair. _Everything_ in the shop was white, and all of the surfaces and windows were bright and gleaming.

Crowley picked up a leaflet about something to do with eyes (presumably, he wasn’t actually looking) and flicked it impatiently against his thigh, alternating between pouting and puffing out his cheeks as he slouched further and further down into his seat, although he only had to wait a few minutes before the mysterious door re-opened.

“Ah, hello!”

Crowley tilted his head up and his eyes widened. His fidgeting came to an immediate halt, and his mouth may have even hung open a little bit.

_Holy shit. Wow._

“Hi…um... hi.”

“I’m Aziraphale, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Crowley. I’m Crowley. Hi. Hi.” 

_You already said that. You’ve said it **four times** now actually, if we’re counting._

“Do come through.”

“Er… thanks.”

 _Holy fucking shit. I’d have shoved a pencil through my eye ages ago if I’d known I’d get to see **him**. Maybe wouldn’t be able to see him very well with the pencil in my eye though. Could still look at him with my good eye, _Crowley thought, and literally closed one eye without thinking in order to evaluate how Aziraphale would look with only one eye (being _looked at_ with only one eye, of course, not _Aziraphale_ only having one eye, although he could wear an eye patch and dress up like a hot pirate, _nice_ ), and then Crowley cringed when he realised that what he’d actually just done was _winked_.

“Have a seat please, my dear.”

_Right. Seat. Sit down. Stop staring. Fuck, he’s gorgeous._

“Seat, yeah.”

Crowley sat in the large padded chair at the back of the consultation room, his leg jiggling restlessly until he leaned forward and planted his elbow on his thigh to stop it. Aziraphale sat on a wheely stool just to the side of him, and Crowley tried so hard not to stare. His tongue felt uncomfortably large in his mouth for some reason, so he tried moving it about a bit to get rid of the sensation. Inevitably, it didn’t actually help, and doing strange things with his tongue probably wasn’t doing anything to repair any damage that might have been caused by his errant _wink_. Crowley put his arms onto the arm rests of the chair, trying to look relaxed and, well, _normal_ , but almost immediately drew them back in against his sides. He suddenly became aware of how hot it was in the consultation room, or how hot it _seemed_ to be anyway, and aggressively tugged off his jacket, folding it over the armrest before adjusting the collar of his shirt.

“So, you’d like to buy these?” Aziraphale tapped his finger on top of the box containing the snakey contacts, drawing Crowley’s attention to his perfect hands.

“Er… yeah. Halloween party. Big spooky fan, me.” Crowley felt the need to offer some explanation, although given that it was 25th October, the reason he wanted them was probably pretty obvious.

“Oh, lovely.”

That _voice_. It was like… Crowley didn’t actually know _what_ it was like, something soft and silky and smooth. Crowley unconsciously rubbed his thumbs against his fingers, examining the texture of the air, as he tried to figure it out.

“This is nothing to be concerned about,” Aziraphale said gently, tilting his head. Apparently he had interpreted Crowley’s weird fidgeting as nervousness about the test, rather than a justifiable symptom of being in the presence of such _gloriousness_.

“‘M not concerned.”

“All right,” Aziraphale said softly, and Crowley suspected he didn’t believe him. “Well, I’m just going to do a quick test to check your eyes are healthy. I do need to use some dye to show up any damage to your corneas.”

“You’re going to dye my eyeballs? Didn’t know that was a thing. Sounds better than contacts.”

Aziraphale laughed, a warm, rumbling sound that caused Crowley’s insides to clench.

“It won’t last very long at all, I'm afraid,” he chuckled.

“Right, yeah, fair enough.”

“Are you ready?”

“Yeah, go for it.”

“It might sting a little when I first put it in, but the discomfort should ease off quite quickly."

_Oh, I'm not gonna go there._

“S’fine," he mumbled.

Aziraphale wheeled closer to Crowley, moving the stool with his feet until he was sitting right in front of him. He leaned forward, their knees brushing together as Aziraphale shuffled forwards, focusing intently on Crowley’s eye. He touched something like a thin strip of paper to the surface of his eye before moving on to the other one. Crowley squeezed his eyes closed for a second and then blinked a few times. His eyes were watering. It did sting, but only for a moment, and then the pain eased off just as Aziraphale had promised.

Aziraphale wheeled away to switch the light off on the wall, the small room now illuminated only by a weird lamp affixed to a sort of trolley, which Aziraphale pulled around so that it was nestled between them.

“Pop your chin on here for me, please,” he said softly, indicating the chin rest in front of the lamp. Crowley did as he’d been instructed, leaning his forehead against the bar across the top of it and watching with rapt attention as Aziraphale made a few adjustments and then wheeled his stool even closer. He was so close that Crowley could smell his cologne, and he was looking right into Crowley’s eyes in a way that made him squirm. Crowley adjusted his position in his seat, and their knees once again pressed together.

“Hnh.”

_Oh fuck! Keep your mouth shut!_

“Are you all right, my dear?”

_Hnhhhhh!_

Crowley swallowed. “Yep. Fine. Totally fine.”

In fairness, that was completely true. Well, aside from the fact that he was actually the _opposite_ of fine, but that was a minor omission. Heat was travelling up Crowley’s thighs from the point where Aziraphale’s knees pressed against him, every small movement he made applying more pressure, the fabric of their trousers rubbing together. Crowley became aware of his own heartbeat, amongst other things of which he wasn’t normally aware. It was like he could feel the way his skin stretched over his muscles and the way the root of his tongue attached to his mouth. He could even feel his fingernails. That wasn’t normal, right?

“Look straight ahead for me.” Aziraphale lowered his voice to a quiet murmur, which, coupled with the darkness of the room, might have been quite soporific if Crowley’s nerve endings hadn't been pretty much on fire.

Crowley looked past Aziraphale to the wall at the back of the room, and Aziraphale leaned right in, shining the bright lamp into his eye. Crowley could see all the veins from the back of his eyeball, which was a bit creepy, but pretty intriguing too. At least it was something to distract him from _Aziraphale_. They were so close that Crowley could hear him breathing, and he licked his lips involuntarily.

“ _Lovely_. Now look left.”

Crowley did as he was asked, quite relieved to be looking away from Aziraphale but still painfully aware of his proximity. His stomach had twisted itself up into an unbearably tight coil. Well, sort of his stomach... maybe a bit lower.

“Now look right.”

Crowley let his gaze linger on Aziraphale for a split-second as he moved his eyes. Aziraphale wasn’t just hot. He had such a calming presence, Crowley just wanted to curl up in his lap or something, maybe wrap himself around him like a snake seeking warmth.

“Now look up. You’ll feel a gentle touch on your cheek.”

**_What?_ **

“Nh.”

Aziraphale pressed his fingertips gently beneath Crowley’s eyelid to open his eye wider, and thank all the denizens of heaven and hell for the chin rest and the bar across his forehead holding him in place, otherwise Crowley would definitely have found himself leaning into that touch.

“And now look down. Same again, I just need to...”

Aziraphale didn’t finish that sentence, but suddenly his soft, warm fingers were on Crowley’s upper eyelid, applying gentle pressure to lift it to better see his eye. Crowley’s skin prickled beneath his touch and his heart fluttered.

“Wonderful. Now look straight at me.”

_Oh no no no no no._

It was undoubtedly because the conflagration that was Crowley’s internal state right now was warping his perception of time, but it felt like Aziraphale spent much longer on this part of the test. Crowley now became aware of the movement of his chest and shoulders, his breaths becoming faster and shallower as he drowned in Aziraphale’s eyes.

“Perfect. _Lovely_.” 

_Oh God he’s trying to kill me. Maybe this is his revenge for making him do another test when he was supposed to be done for the day. Not fair, it’s not **my** fault, it was that American woman’s fault._

“Right. That’s it then? Are we done?”

Aziraphale chuckled.

“Your eye appears to be in absolutely perfect health, but unless you want to be a serpent with only one eye, I’m going to need to examine the other one.”

“Oh, right, yeah. ‘Course.”

_Idiot._

Aziraphale repositioned the lamp and then leaned in close again. Crowley swallowed hard and the primitive part of his brain apparently forgot that making him breathe was part of its job (perhaps because its attention was distracted by _other_ primitive bodily functions) so he had to make a conscious effort to suck in each and every breath.

“That’s it Crowley, lovely, keep looking ahead for me.”

“Mrh.”

Aziraphale shifted his position, his knee slipping slightly between Crowley’s legs.

“Hmmrhh.”

“Are you all right?”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“There's no need to apologise. You’re doing very well.”

That chin rest was the only thing that held Crowley up and prevented him from melting into a puddle of goo right there on the floor of the consultation room.

Crowley once again obediently followed all of Aziraphale’s instructions, his skin tingling when Aziraphale touched his face again. Just like before, Aziraphale’s examination of his eye while he was looking _right at him_ took the longest, and Crowley took advantage of the opportunity to stare longingly into his beautiful blue eyes.

_Pathetic. Absolutely fucking pathetic._

Aziraphale wheeled away and flicked the light switch, flooding the room with a bright light that made Crowley squint. After a second or two he realised he could remove his chin from the rest, and sat back in the chair, blinking aggressively. During the test, he’d felt so agonisingly aware of Aziraphale’s presence, and, frankly, _hotness_ , that he’d been burning up and desperate for it to be over, but now that it was, he mourned for it. His leg was still tingling where Aziraphale’s knee had brushed against it.

“You have lovely eyes, Crowley. Very healthy.” Aziraphale smiled at him like he was really proud of Crowley for having healthy eyes, as if that were something he worked hard at, like there was an eyeball gym he went to three times a week or something. “There will be no problem at all with you wearing these. We just need to make sure you can safely put them in and take them out.”

“Yeah, Anathema said.”

“Well, if you’d like to follow me, we’ll give it a go, shall we?”

Crowley picked up his jacket and followed Aziraphale out of the consultation room and further away from the front part of the shop. Aziraphale led him to a small area with a bright white narrow counter affixed to the wall, and took a seat on one of the stools there.

“You’ll need to wash your hands first,” Aziraphale instructed, gesturing towards the sink at the end of the counter. “You must always wash your hands just before you put the lenses in or take them out.”

“Ok, yeah. Got it.”

Crowley thoroughly washed his hands and dried them on a couple of paper towels from the dispenser beside the sink, and then came to sit beside Aziraphale on one of the stools.

“We’ll try this with some ordinary disposable contact lenses for now, so you don’t need to worry about dropping them or tearing them, or getting them in the right way up!”

“Sure. Ok.”

Aziraphale opened up a box of contact lenses and took out one of the tightly sealed packets, carefully pulling off the foil lid and scooping the lens up onto his finger.

“I’ll show you how to do it, but I’m not actually going to put it in my eye.”

“Yeah, didn’t wash your hands.”

“Quite right.” Aziraphale smiled warmly at him, and Crowley started melting again. _Fuck, no chin rest!_ He gripped onto the sides of his stool for support instead.

“Are you left- or right-handed, my dear?”

“Hnh. Right.”

“So you’re going to place the lens on your fingertip like this,” Aziraphale explained in that delectable voice of his as he demonstrated what to do, “you’ll easily be able to tell that the lens is the right way around with the novelty ones, so don’t worry about turning it inside out. Use your left hand to lift up your upper eyelid, and your right hand to pull down your lower eyelid, and then just touch it to your eye. Withdraw your finger, then wait a moment for the lens to settle before you blink.”

_Doesn’t look hard._

“Are you ready to try?”

Crowley shrugged and nodded, and Aziraphale passed him one of the little packets containing a contact lens. He opened it up and somehow managed to squirt saline solution onto his face.

“Mrrr!” he said intelligently.

“Oh dear, I should have warned you about that. At least you didn't get any in your mouth! Let me get you a tissue to clean it off.”

“S’fine,” Crowley mumbled, scrubbing his sleeve across his face. Aziraphale pulled a tissue free from the box in front of him and began gently patting Crowley’s cheek. Crowley thought he’d got all of it with his sleeve but apparently not. Aziraphale scrunched up the tissue and dropped it into a bin underneath the counter, while Crowley stared at him and resisted the urge to touch his face, hot and pulsating where Aziraphale had just touched him. “Right, here goes.”

Crowley stuck his finger into the saline solution in the little plastic container and found the contact lens. It was a slippery little bugger but he managed to get it onto his fingertip, just like Aziraphale had done.

“That’s it, now pop it in,” Aziraphale encouraged.

Crowley looked at himself in the mirror and tried to replicate what Aziraphale had shown him, using his left hand to lift up his eyelid and the spare fingers of his right hand to pull down the other one, and then he slowly moved his finger towards his eye. He blinked before the lens even touched him, and his eyelashes knocked it off his finger onto the counter.

“Not to worry, just scoop it up and put it back in the saline solution.”

“Sorry,” Crowley mumbled, doing as he’d been told and poking the lens around a bit in the solution inside the plastic container.

“Please don't apologise, Crowley. No one gets it in easily the first time; you have to prepare yourself.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Your instinct is to blink when something is about to touch your eye, so you have to prepare yourself for it. Oh, and also make sure the lens is well-lubricated.”

“I... _what_?”

“If it's well-lubricated it will go in more easily, and it should feel more comfortable.”

“I can’t tell if you’re serious.”

“Of course I’m serious.” The lines across Aziraphale’s forehead deepened, and Crowley blew out a breath and stared down at the counter. Apparently he was completely oblivious to the innuendo.

Crowley scooped up the extremely well-lubricated lens (so well-lubricated that some of the solution dribbled down his fingers) and adopted the position again, _preparing_ himself this time. The lens did actually touch Crowley’s eye, he definitely felt it, but he once again blinked and it popped off his finger and onto the counter.

“But I was prepared _and_ lubricated!” Crowley complained. Why couldn’t he do this? Was he so completely distracted by Aziraphale’s gorgeous face and body and his goddamned unintentional innuendos that he couldn’t do a simple thing that millions of people did quite easily every day and just shove a bloody contact lens into his eye?

“It’s all right, just keep trying. This usually takes a little while. If it were easy we wouldn’t have to make sure you could do it before we let you buy them.”

Aziraphale’s voice was now achingly soft and reassuring, and Crowley just needed to get the fuck out of there, although, if he were honest with himself, he didn’t actually want to.

_Oh no! What if this is one of those subconscious self-sabotaging things where I’m fucking this up on purpose because I don’t want to leave?_

Crowley scooped up the lens and tried again. It fell onto the counter, _again_.

“Arrrhh!”

“Don’t worry, my dear, you’ll get the hang of it.” Aziraphale rested his palm on Crowley’s arm sympathetically, which was pretty much just positive reinforcement to keep failing, not to mention extraordinarily distracting.

Crowley took a deep breath and then scooped up the lens again, and failed... _again_. Aziraphale suggested trying the other eye. It didn’t help. Neither did any of the other things Aziraphale recommended: tilting his head down, _relaxing_ , using one hand to keep his eye open instead of both, making sure that the _lens_ was lubricated but that his finger was very dry... whatever Crowley tried, the damned lens kept landing on the counter and then just sitting there all transparent and superior and mocking him. Still, he scooped it back up, dunked it into the solution and kept trying... over and over and over and over and over, while Aziraphale continued to smile sweetly and reassure him, occasionally touching his arm, and, on one occasion, his shoulder, to comfort him when he got frustrated.

“Hi... excuse me, Aziraphale?”

Crowley looked into the mirror and saw the American woman from before hovering behind him.

“What can I do for you, dear girl?”

Crowley felt a pang of jealousy at Aziraphale’s use of the endearment. It made him feel less special. _Ridiculous._

“I’ve locked the front doors, but I didn’t cash up the till because I didn’t know if...” she gestured vaguely towards Crowley. “Anyway, is it ok if I go?”

“Oh, is it seven o’clock already?” Crowley watched Anathema’s reflection nod in response to Aziraphale’s question. _Shit. Really?_ Had Crowley literally been here for an entire _hour_? “Of course, go home! I’ll sort out the till. Have a lovely evening.”

“Thanks, see you tomorrow!”

Crowley waited for Anathema to leave and then turned to Aziraphale.

“Shit, I am so sorry! You should have kicked me out ages ago!”

“Nonsense, I don’t mind at all. I am sorry though, I won’t be able to let you buy the lenses today.”

“Yeah, ‘course. Sorry I wasted your time.”

“You certainly haven’t wasted my time! When is this party you’re going to?”

“Saturday.”

“Well then, we have plenty of time. Why don’t you pop back tomorrow and we’ll give it another try, hmm?”

“I think I should probably just give up. I’m sure you’ve got more important things to do than help someone who only plans to wear the things once just for some stupid Halloween party.”

“It really is no trouble, Crowley. Tomorrow then?”

“Um... all right. If you’re sure you don’t mind?”

“Not at all. Let me walk you out, I’ll need to open the door for you.”

Crowley looked longingly at the box of novelty contact lenses on the counter and pouted before getting up from his stool and following Aziraphale back to the front of the shop, lingering behind ever so slightly for ogling purposes.

“Well, it’s been very lovely to meet you, Crowley. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Right. Yeah. Stay cool.”

Crowley cringed so hard he was physically trembling as Aziraphale unlocked the door and held it open for him.

_Oh Lord just kill me now._

That was Monday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're enjoying it so far! :-)
> 
> "Stay cool" is what Crowley says to the rats in the deleted scene in the BT Tower. ;-)


	2. Try, try, try again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley goes back and keeps trying to get the contact lenses in.

On Tuesday, Crowley left work a bit early to get to the opticians _two_ hours before closing, just in case it took a while for him to get the contact lenses in. At least he had one advantage today, he was truly _prepared_ for the impending onslaught on his eyes (by which, of course, he meant looking at Aziraphale’s stunningly handsome face and gorgeous body).

Aziraphale’s face lit up as soon as he saw Crowley, and Crowley’s stomach flopped over and left him wondering if perhaps he wasn’t quite as prepared for this as he’d thought he was. He followed Aziraphale to the area behind the consultation room, washed his hands and sat down on the stool next to him.

“I’m so pleased you decided to keep trying,” Aziraphale said kindly, his cheeks rounding adorably as he smiled.

“Hnhh.”

Crowley hadn’t anticipated that his physiological responses to being in Aziraphale’s presence today would be even more intense than yesterday. He thought he might have been desensitised, at least a little bit, now that the initial shock of being confronted with someone so... _hhnnhhhgggghhh_ was over, but apparently the opposite was true. His heart was racing and his entire body felt hot and _tight_. He had to get these godforsaken lenses in as quickly as possible or he was going to be seriously risking spontaneous human combustion, or at the very least doing or saying something humiliating.

Crowley stared determinedly at his reflection, and with a quick reminder from Aziraphale about what to do (which he hadn’t needed, he’d had more than enough practice yesterday), he scooped up the lens and brought it close to his eye, with rather predictable results.

“Mmmrr.”

“Don’t worry, just keep trying. Why don’t we talk about something else to take your mind off it? You might be overthinking it now, a distraction would probably be helpful. I can see how tense you are, it’s all right, just try to relax.” Aziraphale affectionately rubbed his hand up and down over Crowley’s bicep, and all of Crowley’s internal organs _screamed_ in that unique way that organs sometimes do when confronted with a ridiculously patient and completely gorgeous optician.

Crowley stared at him while his brain tried to block out all the screaming (if his brain were a control room, there would be people running around frantically trying to switch off alarms while the person in charge looked on with an eerie sense of calm, resigned to their fate, simply letting the impending disaster come). The thought that Aziraphale could tell he was tense simply made Crowley _more_ tense, not to mention the _touching._ Crowley’s bicep flexed beneath Aziraphale’s palm.

“What do you want to talk about?” Crowley asked, aiming for nonchalance (but if we imagine that nonchalance was the bullseye of a pub's dartboard, Crowley had just punctured someone’s tyre in the car park).

“What would you find distracting?”

_Find **you** distracting._

“Something not about eyes, I guess.”

“Ah, well, at least that leaves us with plenty of topics to choose from.”

Crowley smirked despite himself. “Yeah. How about ducks?”

“What about ducks?”

“Why does water slide off them?” Crowley asked, swishing the lens around in the saline solution and scooping it back up onto his finger.

“Well, their feathers are covered with oil, aren’t they? Otherwise they’d absorb all the water and they’d sink.”

“Ha!” Crowley blurted out, imagining a duck soaking up a load of water and sinking. It was only the mental image that was funny, he wouldn’t actually want a duck to be harmed, of course.

The lens popped out of Crowley’s eye and onto the counter. He scooped it up again.

“Apparently the image of drowning ducks wasn’t as effective a distraction as you’d hoped, hmm?”

Crowley laughed and turned to Aziraphale with a grin on his face. Aziraphale was looking at him reproachfully, but the twinkle in his eye gave away his true feelings.

“Guess not. Ok... um... what would you do if you found out the world was ending?”

“Oh, now that’s a very interesting question.”

Crowley’s chest bloomed with pride as he balanced the lens once again on his finger. This time he would do it. Yep. This was it. This was the time. This was the...

It landed on the counter.

“Is there anything I could do to try to stop it?” Aziraphale asked.

“The entire world ending? Let’s assume not.”

“Does everyone else know the world is ending?”

“Does that matter?”

Crowley picked up the lens again and got it _lubricated_.

“Of course. If everyone knows then there will be mass panic, so I would probably just stay in my flat to keep away from all the rapscallions and hooligans.”

“Holy shit.”

It took Crowley a second to realise he’d said that out loud. _‘Rapscallions and hooligans’, fucking hell..._ Hearing Aziraphale talk like that shouldn’t have done the things to Crowley that it did, but somehow it served as a trigger to divert a little more blood away from his brain. Would _that_ work as a distraction to let him finally get this stupid lens into his eye?

“I’m sorry?” Aziraphale questioned.

“Oh, I mean, yeah, hadn’t thought of that. People would go crazy. Looting and rioting and stuff. Keeping out the way sounds like a good idea.” Crowley brought his finger towards his eye and felt the lens touch it before he blinked it back onto the counter once again. “So... um... if everyone else _didn’t_ know the world was ending?”

“Ah, well then I’d use my savings to bribe someone to free up a table at the Ritz. I’ve always wanted to go there.”

“You should do it, don’t wait for the end of the world.”

“Hopefully one day,” he smiled. “What about you, Crowley? What would you do?”

Crowley shoved the lens back into the saline solution with a lot more force than necessary.

“Dunno. Might keep doing this so that maybe the last thing I ever tried to do wasn’t a failure.”

Aziraphale pouted at him. “Well, in that case, Crowley, I suppose I would spend the time here with you, helping you to do just that. Then once you’ve managed it, perhaps we could _both_ dine at the Ritz.”

“You think they’d let a demon with snake eyes dine at the Ritz?”

“I think they’d let an honest-to-goodness six foot _snake_ dine at the Ritz with the amount I’m using to bribe them.”

“It’s a plan then,” Crowley grinned as the lens popped off his finger onto the counter. At that moment, as Aziraphale smiled warmly at him, he thought he wouldn’t mind finding out the world was ending if it meant he got to have dinner at the Ritz with Aziraphale.

After some more random conversation topics had been explored and the lens had popped out of Crowley’s eye more times than he could count, he sighed with frustration and leant his elbows on the counter, letting his head fall into his hands.

“This must be the longest it has _ever_ taken anyone to do this.”

“Oh no, I can assure you, we have a long way to go before we reach that point.”

“Yeah, well, I bet those were people who planned on wearing contact lenses every day for the rest of their lives, not just for some stupid party thrown by a friend who thinks a _bunny rabbit_ is a good Halloween costume.”

“Hmm, yes, that is a rather _frightful_ thought.”

That was an absolutely terrible joke, but it was also frustratingly adorable. All of those tight, coily, swirly-whirly feelings in Crowley’s stomach were only intensifying the more time he spent with Aziraphale, and they were joined by an uncomfortable gnawing as he thought about all of the more important things Aziraphale could probably be doing right now. As much as Crowley would have loved to sit talking to Aziraphale for as long as he would indulge him, it really wasn’t fair.

“I can’t keep wasting your time like this,” Crowley sighed. “I should go. Next to bunny-ears-Eric I’ll look like a scary enough demon anyway.”

“We can’t give up now,” Aziraphale urged with the utmost sincerity.

“I’m never going to get it, and I’m sure you have better things to do.”

“Well, even if that were true, there is nothing I would _rather_ be doing.”

Aziraphale really took customer service seriously, which was ridiculous given the novelty contact lenses cost less than fifteen pounds. The cost of Aziraphale’s time to teach Crowley how to put them in certainly wasn’t worth the effort for the shop; Aziraphale had to be the most patient person Crowley had ever encountered in his life. Crowley stared at himself blankly in the mirror, and Aziraphale cleared his throat.

“I have an idea,” Aziraphale began quietly. “Perhaps I could put one of them in for you? Then you can at least make sure that you're comfortable wearing them, and we can move on to you practising taking them out instead. A little variety never hurts,” he chuckled.

Although Crowley had been unable to fathom Aziraphale’s seemingly unending patience, this suggestion, which was clearly a sign that Aziraphale secretly hoped Crowley would hate the lenses and decide to abandon the whole thing, made Crowley’s heart ache. As guilty as he had been feeling for wasting Aziraphale’s time, he didn’t actually want this to be over, and the more time he spent with Aziraphale, the more that feeling solidified in his chest and refused to budge.

“Yeah, all right,” he mumbled.

“Once you actually see and feel what happens as it goes in, you might feel more confident to do it yourself.”

_For fuck’s sake, Aziraphale._

“Ok. I’ll pay attention.”

Aziraphale smiled encouragingly and got up from his stool to wash his hands, standing with his back to Crowley, bending over the sink slightly. _Nice view._

He dried his hands on a paper towel and dropped it into the bin under the counter, and then opened up a new contact lens (Crowley actually felt bad for how many they’d gone through and wondered whether they were at least recyclable) and balanced it on his finger.

“Are you ready for me to put it in? Don’t worry, I’ll do it slowly and gently.”

_Seriously, for fuck’s sake, Aziraphale!_

“Yes, do it, put it in, I’m ready for you,” Crowley said, because he wasn’t going to pass up an opening like that, wondering somewhere in the back of his mind whether Aziraphale might be flirting with him. Aziraphale, however, still seemed completely oblivious, smiling politely and leaning closer, gently holding Crowley’s eye open.

“That’s it Crowley, perfect, you’re doing so well.”

The heat of Aziraphale’s touch and the slithery warmth of his reassurance wriggled its way inside of him and made Crowley feel like he was on fire. It felt so intimate, and despite the heat building within him, Crowley’s skin prickled with goosebumps.

Crowley summoned every ounce of self-control he had to make sure he didn’t blink, trying to pay attention to what Aziraphale was doing. He felt the lens touch his eye, but still held his eyes open like a startled gazelle as Aziraphale withdrew his finger ( _ok, thoughts like that aren’t particularly helpful either_ ). Crowley had, on more than one occasion, got this far, but had blinked too soon and the lens had popped back out. He was determined not to let that happen now.

“It’s all right, it’s in, you can blink now.”

Crowley blinked, and he felt the lens move a bit in his eye. _In_ his eye. It was in his eye! He looked in the mirror, and when he looked closely he could just about see the outline of the lens. When he looked back towards Aziraphale, he was beaming at him.

“How does that feel?”

“Yeah, feels fine. Can feel it a bit but it’s not uncomfortable or anything.”

“Well, you will be able to feel the novelty ones a little more, but you should be fine if these don’t bother you, as long as you don’t have them in for more than ten hours.”

“What happens after ten hours?”

“The serpent needs to transform back into a handsome man, I’m afraid, or your eyes will become dry and irritated.”

Crowley had two options: focus on the ‘handsome man’ comment, or make a joke about lubrication to try to _avoid_ focusing too much on the handsome man comment (since focusing on _that_ would likely render him unable to speak entirely). Crowley glanced back into the mirror, and under the bright white lights he could see the blush now tinting his cheeks.

“Can’t just use more lubricant?” he mumbled.

“There are some lubricating drops you can use if your eyes start feeling dry, but you still shouldn’t wear the lenses for more than ten hours if at all possible. Are you expecting this party to go on all night?” Aziraphale asked lightly, and it almost felt like he was teasing.

_Well, I certainly **can** go all night._

_Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Don’t say it._

“Well, I... I mean, sometimes they have. Lasted all night. Can get pretty wild. Last year we dumped Hastur into a tub of maggots, he screamed like crazy, it was hilarious.”

_Yeah, good choice, because of course Aziraphale wants to hear about **that**._

“Oh dear, had he done something to deserve such treatment?”

_See, now he thinks you’re an arsehole._

“Oh, _absolutely_!”

“Well, that’s all right then,” Aziraphale smiled, giving Crowley a conspiratorial wink that made him feel like he'd just been shocked with one of those defibrillator things. He wondered for a moment whether the shop had one of those. He might need it. “So, shall we move on to taking it back out?”

Crowley nodded, but he had a niggling feeling that this was going to be even worse than trying to get the thing in.

“Right, now you just need to move your eyelid out of the way like before, and then very gently pinch the sides of the lens.” Aziraphale mimed this near his own eye, and Crowley squinted and looked at him questioningly. “Would you like me to show you?”

Crowley nodded, and after Aziraphale had removed the lens from his eye and put it back in, Crowley spent the next half an hour trying to copy what he’d done and take the lens out himself. He failed.

When Anathema poked her head around the corner again, Aziraphale took the lens back out for Crowley, his fingertips drifting enticingly across his cheek as he withdrew, and smiled sympathetically before they said their goodbyes.

That was Tuesday.

On Wednesday, they spent about thirty minutes with Crowley trying and failing to get the lens in, followed by Aziraphale putting the lens in for him (“that’s it, hold still... there we are, lovely” _hngh_ ) and another thirty minutes of Crowley trying and failing to take it back out.

Once again, Aziraphale tried to keep Crowley relaxed by encouraging him to talk about other things. Crowley told Aziraphale about his job at the botanic gardens and how they were trying to build up a database of DNA barcodes for as many different species as possible to help with accurate identification and conservation, which Aziraphale seemed genuinely interested in, talking about how important it was to try to save the world. Aziraphale asked whether Crowley also liked to garden as a hobby, and Crowley confessed to shouting at his houseplants, partly as an experiment to see if Aziraphale would think he was crazy enough not to be worth bothering being so patient with. Crowley talked about his interest in astronomy (prompting Aziraphale to say, “oh, I would love to get out of the city and go stargazing sometime!”, to which Crowley needed to bite his tongue to stop himself from issuing an invitation), and even talked about the silly pranks he liked to play on his colleagues. That had got them onto how Crowley had met Eric, one of the long-suffering underlings at his old corporate job before he moved to the botanic gardens, who was responsible for the 'Hell For Leather'-themed Halloween party he wanted the contact lenses for. Crowley caught the way Aziraphale’s expression shifted when he explained Eric's rule that leather must be incorporated into everyone’s costume, but wasn’t really sure how to interpret it.

Crowley had also learnt a lot about Aziraphale. He loved to read (to which Crowley had suggested that maybe he should read a book while Crowley tried over and over and over to get the lens in, not wanting him to be bored, but Aziraphale had said he wouldn’t dream of not giving Crowley his full attention). He loved food, but rather than always looking out for something new and different (aside from wanting to try the Ritz of course), there were a handful of restaurants he visited where he’d actually got to know the staff quite well (“I know what I like and I like what I know”, and Crowley had somehow stopped himself from saying “you've got to know me pretty well by now”.) He liked cocktails, but felt cheated if they didn’t come with one of those silly little umbrellas. Aziraphale had a _collection_ of those umbrellas. He had once seen a client who had stabbed themselves in the eye with one. Crowley suspected they hadn’t done it on purpose, but if they had, fair play, much better idea than the one he’d had to shove a pencil in his eye in order to enjoy more of Aziraphale's company.

Aziraphale also enjoyed going to the symphony and the theatre. He was so... _refined_. The way he spoke, the way he dressed (underneath the lab coat emblazoned with the company logo, a series of angelic wheels adorned with eyes), looking like he’d stepped out of a different century. He was intelligent and witty and oblivious and adorable... and Crowley was absolutely smitten.

It wasn’t surprising that Crowley’s attraction to Aziraphale had intensified over the past few days. Obviously Aziraphale was gorgeous, and he had been consistently attentive, sweet and patient, and Crowley had got to know him better than some of the people he’d actually dated. At this point, they’d spent so much time together this week that it was basically the equivalent of at least a _couple_ of dates.

Crowley was staring resolutely at himself in the mirror, the lens that Aziraphale had put in for him still in his eye. _Here we go again..._

Crowley could feel the lens beneath his fingertips. He squeezed it gently and felt it lift away from his eye, and his heart started beating even faster. He withdrew his hand, and there was the lens, sitting on his finger.

“Oh my God, I did it! I got it out!”

Crowley tried not to dwell on the fact that the skill of getting a contact lens _out_ , without the accompanying skill of being able to get it _in_ , was completely worthless, and he managed to forget about that fact _completely_ when he looked up at Aziraphale, who was positively beaming at him, and even grabbed hold of Crowley's hand and squeezed it.

“There you are, see! I told you not to give up! Well done, Crowley!”

It was such a stupid thing that Crowley had managed to achieve, but Aziraphale seemed genuinely proud (seriously, _proud_ , not _relieved_ ), and Crowley thought it might be one of the greatest accomplishments of his life. Anything that could make Aziraphale smile at him like _that_ was unarguably a fantastic achievement.

“You don’t think it was a fluke, do you?”

“Why don’t I put it back in and you can prove to yourself that it wasn’t? You’ve got the technique now, you’ll be fine.”

“I’ve done it _once_ , but thanks for your faith in me.”

The next time took longer, Crowley withdrawing his fingers from his eyes expecting to see the contact lens and finding it still in his eye, but after about ten minutes, he managed to do it again.

“Wonderful! You’re doing so well, Crowley!”

So on Wednesday, Crowley left Angel Eyes Opticians with the brand new skill of being able to remove contact lenses.

But he still hadn’t managed to get them in.

On Thursday, after about forty-five minutes, Crowley decided it was finally time to give up. Aziraphale was being just as patient and lovely as always, but Crowley could tell he was feeling a bit... harried. Anathema kept coming back to ask him questions, and at one point, a very sheepish young man called Newt appeared to quietly tell Aziraphale that the appointments system had crashed (even though he’d “only pressed Enter, honestly”). After another five minutes he returned, looking even more sheepish, saying the till was down now too. Another minute passed and the smoke alarm started beeping, and Aziraphale stared up at it for a moment and then sighed and closed his eyes.

“You’ve clearly got more important things to be dealing with right now than me, I’ll leave you to it. I’m so sorry I’ve wasted so much of your time.”

“Please don’t go, it’s all right, you can take as long as you need.”

“Even if I manage to get the damned things in, you can’t sell them to me now if the till’s down, right? Look, you’re really kind and generous, I really do appreciate how patient you’ve been with me, but I think we should both just accept that I’m a lost cause.”

“But you're halfway there, you can get them out! Please don’t go, Crowley. Don’t give up.”

“Aziraphale, sorry,” Anathema poked her head around the corner again. “Someone’s poked themselves in the eye with a pen, can you come and take a look?”

_Bit of a running theme here; people are definitely doing it on purpose. Who can blame them though?_

“Come back tomorrow?” Aziraphale asked, looking at Crowley imploringly. “We still have two days until we run out of time. I have to go now, but please, Crowley, come back tomorrow.”

“Right, yeah, ‘k.”

“Oh, good! I'll look forward to seeing you then.”

Aziraphale placed his hand on Crowley’s forearm and _squeezed_.

“Hnhh.”

On Friday, Crowley came back. By closing time, he still hadn’t got the contact lenses in.

This was humiliating. He’d literally wasted, God, he didn’t even want to _count_ how many hours of Aziraphale’s time.

“I cashed up,” Anathema said matter-of-factly as she rounded the corner and hovered behind them. “Not that I don’t have faith in you, Crowley, but honestly at this point if you get them in, _I’ll_ buy them for you.”

“Oh, Anathema, dear girl, do be more supportive.”

“Oh I’m supportive. I’m just realistic. Enjoy the party, Crowley. I’m sure you’ll look great anyway, won’t he Aziraphale?”

“It would be rather difficult for him not to.”

Crowley blinked and his mouth hung open.

“See you tomorrow, Aziraphale,” Anathema winked.

“Tomorrow?” Aziraphale’s eyebrows knitted together and then he suddenly seemed to remember something. Crowley simply stared at him, still reeling from his previous comment. “Oh yes, right you are, my dear.”

“You work Saturdays too?” Crowley asked, a little croakily, once Anathema had walked away.

“I... well, we have a rota. I’ll be working tomorrow. You can come back.”

Crowley let out a self-deprecating laugh. “It would take a _miracle_ for me to get the lenses in.”

“Hmm, yes, I’m afraid I might have to agree with you on that.”

Crowley jutted out his bottom lip and nodded. He was quite satisfied to have got Aziraphale to finally admit it.

“However, I will be here, and if you come here just before your party, I can put them in for you.”

“Seriously?”

“Of course, after all your hard work it would be a shame not to get the result you wanted, and you’ll be able to take them out yourself after the party,” he said brightly.

“Um... thanks, that’s... that’s really nice of you. Bet you wished you’d thought to suggest that ages ago, eh?”

“Not at all, you deserved every opportunity to try to do it for yourself. Besides, it’s been lovely getting to know you.”

Crowley couldn’t be sure whether Aziraphale was just being polite, after all, he seemed genuine, but he was so nice that he’d probably say that to everyone and actually mean it. Still, Crowley felt like he was glowing, and he looked Aziraphale right in the eyes as he said with equal sincerity, “Yeah, you too.”

Aziraphale dipped his head and looked up at Crowley through his eyelashes, his cheeks rounding as he smiled. No one had any business being that adorable.

“Seriously, thanks for everything. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Leave it as late as possible so you won’t have the lenses in for too long. I don’t know if you’re planning to wear any makeup, but if so, we will need to put the lenses in before you apply it. You’ll also need to take the lenses out before you remove it.”

“Ok, I’ll come just before seven. Thanks, Aziraphale.”

“My pleasure, Crowley. See you tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your kudos and comments, I really appreciate them! <3 
> 
> One chapter to go, but I've just had some sad news so probably won't feel like finishing it off immediately, probably later on this week <3


	3. Worth the effort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley goes to the opticians to have the lenses put in and then goes to Eric's Halloween party, but not everything goes according to plan.

On Saturday, Crowley arrived at the opticians at about 6.45pm. The front of the shop was deserted, aside from Anathema standing by the till. She smirked and beckoned him over, wiggling the box of contact lenses in the air.

“That’ll be £14.99,” she said by way of greeting.

Crowley inwardly cringed again at the thought that Aziraphale had devoted so much time to something that was only ever going to result in such an inexpensive purchase. Crowley had decided, however, that he would definitely come back to Angel Eyes for some new sunglasses in the spring, so perhaps Aziraphale’s unwavering attention to customer service would pay off in the long run. Of course, if Crowley ever _accidentally_ stabbed himself in the eye, he would come back then as well.

Crowley tapped his credit card to the reader, relishing the satisfying beep it made.

“Why don’t you go on back? I assume you know the way by now,” Anathema teased, handing the box to him.

“Thanks.”

Anathema unclipped a red rope that had been used to close off the back area of the shop so that Crowley could pass, and he smiled politely before heading for the contact lens trial area for the very last time. Crowley washed his hands reflexively, it had become habit by now, before realising that of course he didn’t actually need to, as he wouldn’t be touching the lenses this time.

Crowley sat down on his usual stool, a strange ache building in his chest. He should have been excited, he was finally going to actually see himself wearing the godforsaken contact lenses, his costume was going to be awesome, and despite Crowley’s jokes about Eric, this Halloween party was always one of the best nights of the year. But as frustrating as Crowley’s attempts to get the contact lenses in had been, he wasn’t quite ready for it to be over. He didn’t like the idea of not getting to see Aziraphale every day.

The man himself appeared from around the corner, smiling, as always, but today it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Maybe Aziraphale had had a long day, or a long _week_ more like, and Crowley just hoped that he hadn’t been too much of a pain in the arse for Aziraphale to have to deal with.

“Hello, Crowley. How are you doing?”

“Hi, Aziraphale. I’m fine, thanks. You?”

“Very well, thank you,” he replied, although he didn’t really sound it. Aziraphale’s entire demeanour was subdued compared to what Crowley had got used to this week. Working six days in a row, it made sense that Aziraphale would be tired. “Are you looking forward to your party?”

“Yeah, should be great! I’m got some terrific pranks lined up!” Crowley grinned.

“How very demonic of you!” Aziraphale laughed. “Let’s get these lenses in then, shall we?”

“Yeah, great, thanks.”

Aziraphale opened up the box and then washed his hands before returning to the stool and settling the first lens onto his fingertip.

“All right, now just like before, stay nice and relaxed for me.” Aziraphale leaned in close and Crowley’s muscles tensed and his heart quickened ( _so much for staying relaxed_ ) as Aziraphale gently touched his face to open his eye wide enough to put the lens in. Aziraphale’s fingers lingered for a second on Crowley’s cheek, and he shivered. “Oh, I’m sorry, is my hand cold?”

“Nhh, a bit, s’ok.”

Crowley waited a few seconds and then blinked, feeling the lens settle in his eye.

“Don’t look in the mirror yet, I don’t want you to see until you’ve got them both in!”

Crowley did as requested, but he could tell from the expression on Aziraphale’s face that the lens must have looked pretty good. Crowley felt like all of his organs had knotted themselves together, and his chest still ached with longing. One more brief touch, a few parting words, and then their time together would be over.

Aziraphale scooped up the second lens onto his finger.

“Ready?”

Crowley nodded, all of his words lodged somewhere at the back of his throat. Aziraphale leaned in close again, delicately putting in the second lens. Once again his touch lingered, and this time, when he withdrew his hand, Aziraphale very briefly skimmed his fingertips over Crowley’s hair at his temple, eliciting another shiver.

“You look stunning. They really suit you.”

Once again Crowley became disconcertingly aware of his own tongue. The fact that Aziraphale thought he could just _say_ things like that proved how completely oblivious he was! He probably just thought he was _unlucky_ seeing so many people who had ‘accidentally’ stabbed themselves in the eye.

Crowley had been dreaming of what he would look like wearing these contact lenses all week, but it took him a moment to tear his gaze away from Aziraphale to look in the mirror, but when he did, a grin spread over his face.

“Wow! They look amazing!”

“Worth the effort then?” Aziraphale chuckled.

“Yeah, absolutely!”

“They glow in the dark a bit too, that might be useful for your spooky pranks.”

“Oh wow, really? Excellent!” Crowley steepled his fingertips and tapped them together as though devising some kind of diabolical plan, which he _would_ be, later, but for now it was all for show; he wasn’t thinking about anything but Aziraphale. “Well, I guess I’d better go and get into my costume.”

Crowley got up from the stool and Aziraphale clapped his hands on his thighs and did the same. They stood together, just looking at each other, and Crowley swallowed and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“I hope you have a lovely time, my dear.”

“I’m sure I will! Thanks again, I’m really grateful.”

“It was absolutely my pleasure.” Aziraphale held out his hand, and Crowley pulled his own back out of his pocket in order to shake it. Aziraphale’s hand wasn’t cold like he’d said, quite the opposite in fact, and that warmth radiated up Crowley’s arm and made his heart ache even more. “Oh, wait here for a moment, would you?”

“Sure.”

“Back in a jiffy!”

Aziraphale released Crowley’s hand and bustled off towards the front of the shop. He returned a few moments later with a small box, which he passed to Crowley.

“The lubricating drops, in case your eyes feel dry.”

“Oh, right, thanks, I forgot. Hope Anathema hasn’t cashed up the till.”

“Not to worry. My treat.”

Crowley’s heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vice. Here he was, standing with the kindest, most generous, most _adorable_ human being he’d ever met... and he might never see him again.

“Thank you.”

“One more thing...” Aziraphale put his hand in his pocket and withdrew a folded piece of paper, which he also handed over to Crowley, who looked at him quizzically. “It’s my phone number.” Crowley’s eyes widened and he just stared at Aziraphale, who chuckled breathlessly. “For if you have any trouble with the lenses, I mean! Since you haven’t worn them before and the shop will be closed... well, call me an old silly but I’d feel better knowing you had a way of getting in touch if you needed to.”

Just like that, Crowley’s plans to drink extraordinary amounts of alcohol at Eric’s party were scuppered. He couldn’t risk getting completely rat-arsed and texting Aziraphale to say all the things he wanted to say, like how incredible he was, how much he’d enjoyed their time together, how badly he didn’t want it to be over.

“Is the shop named after _you_? ‘Cause you really are an angel.”

Aziraphale blushed and dipped his head again, and it made Crowley really want to kiss him.

“I wouldn’t make a very good angel, would I? I’ve spent all week helping someone transform into a demon.”

“Mmm, point taken. Well, thanks. I really appreciate it, but I’m sure I’ll be fine.” Crowley pushed the folded piece of paper into his pocket.

“Oh... all right.”

Aziraphale walked with him back to the front of the shop, unclipping the rope and letting Crowley go ahead of him. Crowley found Anathema waiting for him, clapping her hands together excitedly.

“Let me see!” She approached closely and grinned. “Oh... stylish! You look great!”

“Thanks.”

“It’s gonna be weird not seeing you every day, it started to feel like you were living here.” Crowley narrowed his eyes and glared playfully at her. “Have fun tonight!”

Anathema reached out and pulled him into a hug, and Crowley wondered whether he could get away with hugging Aziraphale too. At this point, it did kind of feel like he was saying goodbye to friends.

When Anathema pulled back, Aziraphale was standing at her side. He glanced quickly at Anathema and then stepped closer to Crowley, wrapping his arms around him. Crowley’s breathing hitched and his brain shut down, but he rapidly rebooted it, determined to commit every detail of this hug to memory. He leaned into Aziraphale’s warmth and softness, his body cushioned against it, and he so badly wished this was something he could do again.

“Please do call,” Aziraphale whispered near his ear, “if there’s anything at all...”

Aziraphale stepped back and Crowley nodded dumbly. He almost wanted one of the contact lenses to explode in his eye or something so he would have an excuse to call and hear Aziraphale’s voice again. They stood staring at each other for a moment until Anathema broke the awkward silence.

“Hey, the shop has a Twitter account, make sure you take some photos tonight in your costume and tag us, it'll help us to promote our range of novelty contact lenses.”

That felt like the least Crowley could do after all the effort they’d gone to for him.

“Ok, will do. Right, well then. See you around I guess.”

“Goodbye, Crowley. Mind how you go.”

* * *

Eric’s party was _brilliant_. The first thing Crowley did was find the perfect background amongst the decorations Eric had put up, with creepy cobwebs arranged around his face, to take some photos to post on Twitter. When Eric walked past, Crowley grabbed his arm and persuaded him to take a couple of full-length pictures to really show off his costume, just in case Aziraphale happened to look at the Angel Eyes Opticians Twitter account. Crowley had lined his snake eyes with black eyeliner, applied a temporary tattoo of a snake to his face, just beside his ear, and was dressed all in black, including a tight-fitting leather jacket with feathery wings attached, going for the ‘fallen angel’ look to fit with Eric’s theme for the party. Around his neck, Crowley wore a black leather choker studded with silver stars, and on his head, a silver broken halo.

Crowley tagged Angel Eyes when he tweeted the photos, and the account almost immediately quote-tweeted them, with a short message about their novelty contact lenses. Crowley was absolutely positive that Anathema was responsible. He could barely imagine Aziraphale owning a smartphone (Crowley imagined that Aziraphale possessed a flip phone, or possibly a traditional Nokia), let alone using any form of social media. Still, he hoped that maybe at some point Aziraphale would see the pictures; maybe Anathema would show him when they were back in work on Monday. Crowley started to wish he’d put his costume on before going to have the lenses put in, that way he could have made sure that Aziraphale would see it, although Crowley might have garnered a few funny looks walking through London dressed like this.

Crowley and Eric deployed their first prank of the night, balancing a bucket of maggots on top of a door, which fell onto Hastur as he walked through when they shouted for him to come into the room. Crowley could hardly believe he had fallen for it. Crowley wasn’t a traditional man, but he quite liked the idea of _starting_ traditions, and he definitely wanted to embed pranking Hastur with maggots as a Halloween tradition. Next, Crowley stuck coins to Eric’s driveway and watched through the window as the other people arriving at the party attempted to pick them up. He then tested out the glow-in-the-dark effect of his contact lenses by hiding outside and peering in through various windows, cackling to himself when he made people shriek and jump.

Aziraphale’s phone number was burning a hole in his pocket. He’d brought it with him, of course he had, just in case... but the lenses were fine, they were comfortable, the slitted pupils of the snake eyes had stayed upright, and Crowley hadn’t even needed to use the eye drops Aziraphale had given him. Crowley was a little bit drunk, just enough to make him keep reaching towards his pocket, enough to make him find quiet corners to hide in so he could stare longingly at Aziraphale’s phone number, but not quite drunk enough to actually _call_ , and he had to make sure to keep it that way. Aziraphale had give him his number for a reason; Crowley could only call if there was something wrong, and he knew that if he got any _more_ drunk he might become far too tempted to shove one of the many plastic spiders scattered around Eric’s house into his eye.

Of course, that was ridiculous and wouldn’t actually happen, not least because Crowley wasn’t any good at getting things into his eye. That had been the whole point.

* * *

By the time Crowley got home, he was extremely tired and his eyes were starting to feel dry, so he headed straight for the bathroom to wash his hands ready to take the lenses out. He leaned in close to the mirror and held his eye open as he squeezed the edges of the first lens to try to take it out, but it didn’t seem to want to move. He sighed and tried again, and again, and again, and again... and just kept failing over and over and over.

Crowley’s muscles tensed and he growled with frustration. He wasn’t _that_ drunk, and he’d done this dozens of times now, it should be fine! He tried again, and again... his hands clenching into fists as the lenses stayed firmly in place in his eyes. Crowley was so tired, he desperately just wanted to go to bed, but he was well aware of the harm that could be caused by falling asleep with novelty contact lenses in his eyes.

“Please please please _please_ just come out!” he begged, staring at his eyes in the mirror as he tried one more time to get the lenses out, failing once again.

Crowley perched on the edge of the bath and sighed heavily. Trying to get the lenses out in the shop had never felt this stressful, presumably because _Aziraphale_ was always there to help him if he couldn’t do it. Now that he was alone, every failed attempt just made Crowley feel more and more anxious, which just made it even harder for him to get the lenses out, and as time went on, the fatigue was threatening to overwhelm him.

Was this the sort of thing Aziraphale had meant when he said that Crowley could call if he had trouble with the lenses?

Of course, by now it was nearly three o’clock in the morning, and Aziraphale would almost certainly be fast asleep even if Crowley _did_ call. Besides, what advice could Aziraphale possibly give to Crowley that he hadn’t already imparted over the entire week that Crowley had been going to see him?

Crowley sucked in another deep breath and returned to the mirror, determinedly staring at his reflection. It would be fine. He could do this. He just needed to stay calm.

So Crowley tried again, and again, and again, but he still couldn’t get them out. He started to think it might be because these lenses were a bit different from the ones he’d practised with. He just couldn’t seem to get hold of them, and they didn’t crinkle up in the middle like the other ones did when he squeezed the sides.

Resigning himself to the fact that he wouldn’t be sleeping any time soon, Crowley headed for the kitchen and made himself a cup of coffee, hoping it would somehow help. It wouldn’t do anything to help calm his already jittery nerves of course, but maybe it would help him to concentrate. His costume was starting to irritate him, so he went to the bedroom to get changed into his comfy black silk pyjamas while he gave his body chance to absorb the caffeine into his system.

Then he tried again a few times to get the lenses out, but still had no luck.

Crowley yawned and rubbed his forehead. His eyes were starting to feel really tired, and he couldn’t even take off his eyeliner, remembering Aziraphale’s instructions. He went back to the bedroom to fetch the eye drops, pulling them out of the pocket of his tight black jeans. With them, he withdrew Aziraphale’s phone number.

_‘Please do call.’_

“You’ll be asleep,” he grumped at the piece of paper.

Crowley returned to the bathroom and put the drops in his eyes, getting some immediate relief from the dryness and hoping that somehow this would make it easier to take them out. Maybe _that_ was the problem, after all, lubrication was a good thing, right?

So Crowley tried again, and again, and again, until he was a complete bundle of stress on the verge of tears (further lubrication, yes, but probably not helpful) and he stomped back to the bedroom and snatched up the piece of paper with Aziraphale’s number on it, opening up a new message on his phone.

**Hi Aziraphale I am so sorry this is Crowley I know you’ll be asleep now but when you wake up please call me I’m so sorry I can’t get the lenses out I promise I won’t go to sleep with them in but please call me when you wake up I really need your help I’m sorry**

Mildly-drunk Crowley had something of an on-again off-again relationship with punctuation, and things had been rather strained as of late.

Crowley sighed and set his phone down on the cistern of the toilet, then decided to wash his hands again before he made another attempt. As he was drying his hands, his phone lit up and his James Bond theme ringtone filled the bathroom, joltingly loud in this small, quiet room in the middle of the night. Crowley recognised the number on the screen immediately, unsurprisingly, since he’d spent enough of the night staring at it. He grabbed his phone and swiped to answer the call.

“Aziraphale...” he murmured pathetically. 

“Crowley, are you all right?”

“Why are you awake? Didn’t want to wake you. Did my text wake you up? Assumed your phone would be on silent. Sorry, I should have waited until morning.”

“I wouldn’t have asked you to call me if you had any problems and then silenced my telephone now, would I?”

“S’middle of the night.”

“It’s all right, Crowley. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I just can’t get them out! I’ve been trying for like an hour!”

“Oh, Crowley, why didn’t you call me sooner?”

“Knew you’d be asleep, and I’m just an idiot, I’ve already wasted loads of your time. I’m so sorry about this, please help me get them out and I promise I’ll never bother you again.”

“You’re not bothering me at all, Crowley. What have you tried so far?”

“Everything you said! And I tried the drops, you know, _lubrication_... Do you think it would help if I cried? Because that’s about where I’m at.”

“Crowley...” Aziraphale breathed his name in a way that sent a shiver down Crowley’s spine. “What do you think the problem is?”

“Don’t know. I’m really tired, and I’m a bit drunk. Only a little bit, I promise! And... I don’t _know_! They’re different from the other ones! They don’t squish up the same!”

“Yes, you’re right, of course,” Aziraphale said sadly. “That’s my fault, I should have let you try with the lenses you were planning to wear and not just the practice ones. I’m sorry, Crowley.”

“No no no no no it’s not your fault! You’re amazing. You’ve been amazing.”

“Oh... thank you, my dear.” Aziraphale’s voice was all weird and quiet, kind of sleepy, and extremely sexy. “Tell me where you are and I’ll come to you. I’ll take them out for you.”

“Middle of the night,” Crowley protested again.

“Crowley, please let me help.”

Crowley was extraordinarily tempted. Realistically, he wasn’t sure he would ever get the lenses out, and Angel Eyes was closed on Sundays. Crowley also desperately wanted to see Aziraphale again, and here he was, offering to come to his flat.

“Will you let me do that?”

“Yes please.”

“All right, good, thank you, Crowley. Why don’t you text me your address and I’ll be there as quickly as I can?”

“’k, thanks.”

Aziraphale arrived about fifteen minutes later, and Crowley’s heart started racing when the buzzer went off. He pressed the button to open the door downstairs, then waited right by the door, listening for Aziraphale’s footsteps. As soon as he heard Aziraphale’s gentle knock on the door, he eagerly pulled it open.

“Thank God, Aziraphale! Thank you thank you thank you!” he blurted out in a hushed voice to avoid waking his neighbours, opening the door wider so that Aziraphale could step past him into the flat.

“Want me to take your coat?” Crowley asked without thinking, it didn’t make much sense for Aziraphale to take off his coat when he would only be here for a few minutes, but Aziraphale smiled and thanked him, slipping his coat off his shoulders and handing it over to Crowley, who hung it up for him. After a couple of seconds to think about it, Crowley was quite glad he’d done that, it felt slightly less ridiculous to be wearing his pyjamas now that Aziraphale didn’t have his coat on. Maybe he should have got changed, but he was extremely tired and his mind had been elsewhere. Aziraphale was dressed in his usual tan trousers, but he had a very soft-looking, very snugglable cream jumper on tonight, more casual than anything Crowley had seen him wear at work.

Knowing that Aziraphale was on his way, Crowley had abandoned his attempts to get the lenses out and had spent the last quarter of an hour tidying up a bit (not that his flat really needed it, Crowley was actually a bit of a minimalist), but Aziraphale hardly seemed to notice his surroundings, his attention fixed solely on Crowley.

“Where is the bathroom?”

“Um, just through here.”

Aziraphale followed Crowley to the bathroom and immediately approached the sink to wash his hands.

“Could you sit on the edge of the bath for me?”

Crowley nodded and immediately complied, and then Aziraphale moved in close, hovering over him, making Crowley’s insides clench tightly.

_Why does he have to be so adorable and gorgeous?_

“All right, Crowley, just relax.”

And then Aziraphale’s hands were on Crowley's face again, gently holding his eye open and lightly squeezing the edges of the first lens until it popped out onto his finger, cooperating in a way it had entirely refused to do for Crowley. Crowley blinked and sighed with relief while Aziraphale placed the lens down on the edge of the sink.

“One down...” Aziraphale murmured soothingly before shuffling even closer to Crowley, their legs brushing against each other in the process, stoking the raging fire burning inside Crowley as he looked up at Aziraphale with wide eyes (one human, one snake) and parted lips.

Aziraphale quickly extracted the second lens, and Crowley immediately squeezed his eyes closed. “Oh my God! Thank you so much!” Crowley moaned with satisfaction as he rubbed his eyes, not caring about smudging his eyeliner. He had missed being able to rub his eyes so much! “Aziraphale, I could hug you!”

“Well, you can, if you like,” Aziraphale said quietly.

Crowley leapt up from the edge of the bathtub and practically flung himself at Aziraphale, wrapping his arms around him and squeezing tightly. Aziraphale’s jumper really was as soft as it looked, and Crowley snuggled in closer, leaning his head against Aziraphale’s.

Aziraphale’s arms wound their way around him, and he started stroking Crowley’s back, with only the thin silk of his pyjama top between Crowley’s skin and Aziraphale’s hands. Crowley’s skin prickled with electricity and the heat building in his abdomen erupted into open flames. He hummed with pleasure and tried to pull Aziraphale even closer, his hand working its way up to rest on the nape of Aziraphale’s neck. They stayed like that for a moment, until Crowley’s sleep-deprived, mildly alcohol-soaked brain realised that he should probably step away before any outward manifestation of his current physiological state asserted itself.

“Well,” Aziraphale began, clearing his throat as they parted, “it’s very late, I suppose now that you’re able to close your eyes, I should probably let you get some sleep.”

“Oh... right, yeah, ‘course. Um... thanks, again, I’m _so_ grateful.” Crowley tried and failed to stifle a yawn. “Can’t believe you came all the way over here in the middle of the night. I stand by what I said, you're an actual angel.”

“I’m just glad I could help. It’s lovely to see you again,” Aziraphale said politely, _reflexively_ , presumably, since they’d only seen each other about nine hours ago. “Oh, I saw your photographs on the Twitter, by the way. You made a _very_ fetching demon.”

 _‘The Twitter’_ did swirly-whirly things to Crowley that it really had no business doing.

“Really?”

Aziraphale complimenting Crowley was starting to become a bit of a _thing_. What if he _wasn’t_ just being friendly and polite? Or was that just wishful thinking on the part of Crowley’s mildly inebriated brain? Although Crowley was, in fairness, as much questioning the fact that Aziraphale had actually looked at _Twitter_.

“ _Really_. Temptation incarnate, my dear. I assume that’s what you were going for, with the snake eyes?”

“Um... yeah. Serpent of Eden kinda thing.”

“Well, it was very effective. Not that you need any help in that regard, you are more than tempting enough already.”

“Hnnhhh.”

Crowley gaped at Aziraphale, who cleared his throat again and started looking around awkwardly.

“Well, I’d better...”

Aziraphale gestured towards the door. All Crowley could think was that he didn’t want him to leave, and so he considered offering Aziraphale tea, because that’s what you’re supposed to do when you have a visitor, but then he remembered that it was the middle of the night and offering tea wouldn’t exactly be appropriate. His exhausted brain was struggling to process what was happening, but despite his words indicating that he was about to leave, Aziraphale seemed reluctant to move too... _and_ he’d called Crowley _temptation incarnate_! That was definitely more than just being polite, right?

In order to settle this, a good course of action at this moment would have been for Crowley to deploy some masterful flirting. It was a shame that Crowley’s brain was _far_ from being capable of that right now.

“Lured you to my demonic lair,” he drawled.

“I’m sorry?”

“I... I don’t know. I’m sorry. I’m tired. I’m _really_ tired.”

“I know, my dear. You should get yourself to bed.”

“But I...”

_I don’t want you to go. I really like you. I think you’re amazing. Please let me see you again._

“What is it, Crowley?”

“’M gonna miss you... _angel_ ,” he murmured quietly.

Aziraphale wrapped his arms back around him, pulling him close, and Crowley clutched onto that ridiculously soft jumper as tightly as he could. Aziraphale’s hands drifted over his back again, and he nuzzled Crowley’s neck, his warm breath making Crowley’s skin tingle, and Crowley pulled him even closer. Aziraphale sighed and turned his head slightly to kiss Crowley on the cheek. As Aziraphale’s lips made contact with his skin, something shifted inside Crowley, that building fire within him erupting into an inferno that he really didn’t want to contain.

“Aziraphale...”

One of Aziraphale’s hands worked its way up into Crowley’s hair and then settled on the nape of his neck, and his eyes flicked to Crowley’s lips, which Crowley licked unconsciously.

“Crowley... please may I kiss you?”

“Hnnhhn... yes, yes, _please_.”

Aziraphale closed what little distance remained between them, pressing his lips to Crowley’s, sending sparks skittering across his skin. Crowley moaned softly against his mouth and returned the kiss - tender, slow and languid, befitting the calm sleepiness of the early hours of the morning. When they separated, Crowley let his head fall to rest on Aziraphale’s shoulder, holding him more gently against him now, wanting to sink into that cosy jumper and fall asleep cuddled up to it.

“Wow... thank you, angel. You feel so good,” he murmured sleepily.

“So do you. I have so enjoyed getting to know you, Crowley. I’m so glad that you... I mean, I _hoped_ you wanted... but I wasn’t sure."

“Thought I was really obvious," Crowley mumbled into Aziraphale's shoulder.

“Well, when I tried to ask you out, you didn’t seem interested.”

“When? Didn’t. Am. What?”

Crowley was getting sleepier and sleepier the longer he remained cuddled up against Aziraphale’s soft warmth.

“Perhaps I should have been more direct,” Aziraphale chuckled.

“Ohhhh... were you _flirting_ with me? With all the lubricant and the preparation and the putting it in gently and stuff?”

“I... _oh_...” Aziraphale paused, his hands stilling on Crowley’s back. “Ah, no, not intentionally.”

Crowley lifted his head, which took an incredible amount of effort, and smiled when he saw that Aziraphale was blushing.

“People shove stuff in their eyes on purpose, you know. Figured it out. You deserve to know. S’only fair.”

“I think perhaps we need to get you to bed, my dear.”

“Take me to dinner first,” Crowley mumbled, and Aziraphale laughed.

“I’ll take you to dinner tomorrow, or rather later _today_ , if you’ll let me, but for now you need to get some sleep.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, Crowley could barely keep his eyes open. It was now nearly four o'clock in the morning.

“May I tuck you into bed?”

Crowley smiled and nodded sleepily, and then remembered that they were in the bathroom and that he actually needed to get to the bedroom. He wrapped one arm around Aziraphale’s waist and leaned against him as he shuffled towards the bedroom, not wanting to let Aziraphale go. Once they reached their destination, Aziraphale wriggled free to pull back the covers, gesturing for Crowley to climb in. Crowley settled himself on the bed, and Aziraphale folded the duvet back over and then sat beside him, reaching up to brush his hair away from his forehead. Crowley’s eyes fluttered closed and he sighed contentedly. He desperately wished he wasn’t so tired, but it was ok, there would be tomorrow... Aziraphale wanted to see him again, and Aziraphale had kissed him, and Aziraphale wanted to have dinner with him... Crowley smushed his face into his pillow and smiled, while Aziraphale kept stroking his hair.

“Would you like me to take your eyeliner off for you?”

“Mmmrmrmrm. Angel.”

“I’ll take that as a yes. I assume you have wipes in the bathroom?”

“Yeah.” Crowley forced his eyes open and seized Aziraphale’s hand, squeezing it gently. “Thank you. You’re so nice,” he mumbled sleepily. "Loved getting to know you too."

Aziraphale smiled at him sweetly. “I’ll be right back.”

Crowley closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of Aziraphale moving around his flat. A moment later, he felt the bed dip beside him as Aziraphale sat back down, and heard him pull a wipe free from the packet.

“Just relax for me, that’s it, Crowley. It shouldn’t be hard to get off, I’ll start by rubbing it with gentle strokes, and then I'll apply a little more pressure towards the end.”

“You’re doing it on purpose,” Crowley grumbled in response to the innuendo, keeping his eyes closed as he felt Aziraphale start to gently wipe away his eyeliner.

“I am now, yes. Do you like it?” The soft, low tone of Aziraphale’s voice made Crowley shudder.

“Love it.”

Another wave of sleepiness washed over Crowley as he relaxed under Aziraphale’s tender ministrations. He was barely awake by the time Aziraphale moved the wipe away from his face.

“There we are, all done.” Aziraphale gently smoothed his thumb across Crowley’s cheek, and Crowley smiled and snuggled further into his pillow. “Sweet dreams, Crowley. Call me when you wake up so we can talk about dinner.”

“Mmm. Goodnight, angel.”

Crowley’s chest bloomed with warmth as Aziraphale pressed a tender kiss to his lips, resting his palm on Crowley’s chest on top of the covers. Crowley sighed contentedly, and was vaguely aware of the sound of the door to his flat being opened and closed quietly, before he finally drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't resist a fluffy ending! :-) Hope you enjoyed! Thank you for your kudos and your lovely comments xx
> 
> Update: Oniria_Creation has created gorgeous artwork of Crowley in his Halloween costume!! <3 https://twitter.com/Oniria_Creation/status/1357381712544727042


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